


Sleeping Beauty

by Acidqueen (syredronning)



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Amnesia, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-08-01
Updated: 2002-08-01
Packaged: 2020-06-27 09:35:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19788154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syredronning/pseuds/Acidqueen
Summary: Kirk and Spock fall down into a cave... amnesia... first time... death... and all the other typical stuff.





	Sleeping Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> The story is part of the second wave of the KirkSpockOnlineFest 2002, starting with the sentence: "Spock's fingers dug into the sensitive flesh of Jim's shoulder, and his world went instantly black."

Spock's fingers dug into the sensitive flesh of Jim's shoulder, and Spock's world went instantly black, the last sound in his ears being the hiss of a disruptor.

Although Kirk desperately tried to stay on his feet, the half-performed nerve pinch and the impact of Spock's now limp body sent him down to earth and so they rolled over the edge and down the sharp decline of the hill. The ride was hard and being jumbled around between stones and grass and small trees like a toy Kirk's only thought was to protect his head by pinning his arms around it. That worked fine until he fell into a former invisible cave instead of against the expected ground. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and the remaining speed of the fall spun him once more around and into another opening, where his head met the wall and with the feeling of an iron hammer knocking through his brain his world went black, too.

*

The taste of blood was on Kirk's tongue as he slowly awakened in complete darkness. There wasn't a single point in his body that didn't ache with various shades of pain, ranging from unbearable to ignorable. His head ranked at the first level, the sheer intensity of the twinge watering his eyes. He inhaled deeply and tried to fight the pain down while examining the other parts of his body. In relation to his fall he was in a better state than was to be expected - one or two ribs were broken, the right shoulder hurt badly, but the rest seemed to work. He went up on his knees slowly, fighting the nausea that rushed over him when he raised his head, a sure sign of a concussion. When he finally stood, it was too much for his stomach, and he collapsed to the ground again to vomit in spasms. His head felt like falling off any moment, and so he waited cranked for a while until the most acute pain was over.

When he rose again, the pain in his left knee made him clench his teeth. Obviously his last action had finished off his weak point once again. His tricoder and communicator were missing, too, and he cursed loudly in a rough voice to summon up his anger against the weakness of his body, hobbling around with his arms extended. While his hands searched deliberately the rocky walls for an opening, he thought about what had happened. The sound of a disruptor filling the air out of nowhere... Spock pressing his fingers on his shoulder, pulling him down... Spock had been shot, Kirk realized in shock, and doubled his efforts on his search. It took him a while nevertheless, since the opening was placed higher than he had expected. Loose sharp-edged rubble burned on his hands and knees when he climbed the wall and crawled up the sloping acceding tube.

It ended in a deep, but open pit, and Kirk could see the red sun of the planet which was still high in the sky. There couldn't have elapsed much more time than one hour, but no search party was in sight, and he was reluctant to call in case their attackers - Klingons probably - were still around. He dropped cautiously down on the humid ground to unburden his knee, and looked around over the bushy plants. There was no sign of Spock.

* 

Darkness and pain surrounded Spock when he came back to consciousness. His body was huddled on a wall as if it had stopped him in a fall. His head and face hurt from the obvious impact with the rough surface, and when he tried to change his position, he rolled on his back and moaned instantly. The pain was stinging and intense as if his back was in flames, but he had no remembrance of what had happened. The sticky wetness of blood was on his face, and it took him a moment to pinpoint that it slowly poured out of his nose. A broken nose at best, a fractured scull at worst, he diagnosed, and that was not the only point of blood loss...

Spock tried to control the profound weakness that spread through his limbs, indicating the first state of shock, and finally his analytical mind took over. A checkup of his whole body for more injuries soon ended in the conclusion that there were many and they were life-threatening.

He briefly wondered how emotionless his own probable death reflected in his mind. There weren't many decisions or missed chances he regretted... although he would never admit regret openly, since that was a human concept. Vulcans believed in acceptance of the inevitable, Kaiidth. Exhaustion went in tremors through his body, and he allowed his mind to travel into the darkness again, where at least the now overwhelming pain would fade.

*

Kirk soon realized that he wouldn't be able to find Spock by just sitting around, so he rose to his feet again and started to rummage in the entangled plants that spread over the ground waist-high. His left leg gave in several times, forcing some tears into his eyes when he intercepted his near-falls by sheer will, but in the end he dropped down again, not able to keep back a cry on his landing. "Hell, that hurts," he muttered through clenched teeth as he leaned forward to clasp his aching knee with both hands, an action which made his chest and shoulder ache in response. It took him some time to calm down his breath, and when he finally wiped his wet eyes, he saw the opening. His heart jumped at the sight, and he crawled over to the gaping hole.

"Spock?" he shouted into the darkness beyond him, "Spock!"

No answer came back, and Kirk briefly wondered if he were right where he was, when he detected the phaser in the soil next to the opening. Spock had to be down there, he decided, and he crept into the swarthy channel. Every move ached, but Kirk's energy had been partly renewed by looking forward to find Spock, and luckily there was only one way down. He wouldn't miss him, if he were here... 

Although he expected the Vulcan, he shrieked back when his hand touched a sticky soft mass. It was blood on an open wound, his mind deduced, and his heart sank when his finger traveled over Spock's body, realizing that the disruptor had burned the back of the Vulcan badly. Spock still hadn't moved, and Kirk became anxious.

* 

"Spock!" The insisting voice entered Spock's mind and chased the peaceful darkness away, only to substitute it with pain.

"Jim..." Spock answered with a low moan.

"How are you, Spock?" Kirk's voice sounded next to Spock's ear, calling for an answer.

Spock took a deep breath and forced himself to comply to his Captain's order.

"Severe head injury... high blood loss... several fractures..." 

"And a disruptor burn," Kirk added.

"Please explain... I can't remember...forgot... last days..." Spock inquired and a hint of his characteristic curiosity showed up.

"As far as I can put the pieces together, we met some unfriendly people with disruptors, maybe Klingons," Kirk replied. "The attackers surfaced suddenly, and in the very moment you turned to me and touched me on my shoulder the disruptor shot hit you and knocked you out. Unfortunately, your grip tightened in your fall, performing a nerve-pinch on me, and sending us both down the hill into these caves."

"I am... sorry..." Spock's voice had seldom sounded more apologizing than in this moment, and if Kirk had felt any better, he would have laughed his head off. The image of Spock accidentally rendering him unconscious was too funny. But now he had something else to be concerned about, and he searched for Spock's hand to touch it. It was unusually cold as he enfolded it into his dusty hands, searching for comfort as much for himself as for the Vulcan.

"Everything will be alright." Kirk whispered.

"Illogical... probability of survival... only... 1 to 21.2... during next 30 minutes."

A knot built up in Kirk's stomach. Spock's predictions had often been low in their favor, but this time Kirk didn't have his spaceship and his formidable crew here to work against the odds. All they had was each other in the darkness of this hole, until the rescue team would show up. He had to keep Spock awake and alive till then - even if he had not the faintest idea how to achieve that.

He moved his hands to Spock's, only to find that the Vulcan's features were tacky with half-dried blood, too. Spock didn't move at his touch, being on the edge of unconsciousness again.

"Spock, wake up!" Kirk ordered in his most commanding voice, but he had to repeat it two times before Spock stirred again with a soft moan.

"Jim...it is cold," he whispered, and Kirk was alarmed. Spock's bodily functions were shutting down, and there wasn't much he could do...

In a fast decision Kirk lay down next to Spock, pressing his body on the Vulcan's tentatively, one of his hands still enfolding Spock's. "I am here, Spock. I will keep you warm" Kirk whispered supportively, and felt his friend's body shiver at his touch.

"There is something... I never told you." Spock suddenly whispered, and sorrow flooded in his dark voice.

"Tell me now, Spock," Kirk said, holding his breath in expectation.

"I wished us to be more than friends..." Spock struggled with his emotions. "I wished to... share your life... your bed..." He was not able to find better words, but he didn't need to.

"But we are lovers," Kirk replied slowly, "since a week. We started during our last shoreleave."

For a long moment they were in complete silence, with only Spock's painful, unsteady breath filling the air.

"Tell me about it," Spock finally whispered. "Tell me what I forgot..."

Kirk snuggled even nearer to Spock than before, placing one of his arms under his head and the other on his chest, thus enfolding the Vulcan carefully. Maybe this wasn't medically recommended, but that was what he needed right now, and Spock simply leaned onto him without any comment. 

So they lay next to each other in the darkness and Kirk started to tell the story of their shoreleave...

"We both had independently made plans to stay on Verran II, you for the cultural stuff, me for the nightlife. When we arrived, we found out there was a conference going on and the only room we could get was a double-room. Since we share a bathroom on the ship, we decided to take this nevertheless. It was small and cozy and with one big double bed in the middle, that couldn't be split in half, so we ended up sleeping next to each other. We had a funny rhythm, though, you being off all day for site-seeing and the famous museums, whereas I was away every night, looking for distraction... well, you know my routines. Every evening we crossed each other's paths only briefly when sharing a meal. I saw it in your eyes that something was bothering you, but had not the least idea what... at least not until the third evening, when I wanted to say goodbye to you and you looked at me and said 'I would prefer if you would not leave.'"

Kirk stopped for a second and listened for the Vulcan's faint breath.

"I am awake. Please proceed," Spock whispered almost inaudibly, and Kirk went ahead.

"You said only that little sentence, and I looked at you and I don't know what devil rode me to answer 'Make me stay, then'. My answer did its job. You arose and came over to me and just reached me when my hand was on the doorknob. You placed your hand on my arm and with a strong grip pulled me around to face you. Your dark eyes were sparkling, as you pressed me on the wall next to the door with your whole body and kissed me. It was like your hot lips inflamed me, and I didn't even try to resist. Your tongue ravished me when you entered my mouth, exploring it deeply, and your knee forced itself between my legs, pressing on my growing bulge..."

Kirk stopped again, now to take some breath for himself. God, he was getting horny - an untimely thing under their actual circumstances.

"It seems to... have been... an interesting experience," Spock said, a low rattling in his voice indicating the energy he had to summon up to speak at all.

"It was the most beautiful encounter I ever had, my love. But let me go ahead, it went on even better..." Kirk envisioned the scene and spoke along.

"Your knee forced between my legs, I started to rub my groin against it without thinking, burning for lust already. I moaned a single "Yes" in my desire, when you freed my mouth for a second, gasping for air, and then you took me in your arms like I were a kid and carried me over to the bed, placing me down in the middle. Never had I felt so taken by someone, and the unusual taste of surrender filled me, making my body ache in astonishment. You were lying next to me, embracing me with one strong arm, while you opened up my shirt, tearing it to pieces when the material didn't cooperate. I flinched in pleasure with every touch of your hand on my chest, my breast, and you ravaged me again with your powerful kisses. Then you bit me down the throat, nibbled and nuzzled on my neck, making me shiver and moan. Your long fingers traveled over to my nipples, and you caressed them merciless, while hot streams of lava seemed to make their way down to my cock. I wasn't able to move, or to get a word out, all I could do was to savor what you did to me..."

Kirk took a deep breath. He was painfully aware of his pulsing bulge pressing into Spock's side, and wondered how the Vulcan would interpret his desires in the light of his vulnerable state. Spock seemed to have caught his thought.

"I... feel most... honored that... even the memory... of my actions have such... an effect on you." 

Spock's pain showed clearly in every single whispered word now, and Kirk felt he ran out of time, so he went on hastily with his story.

"At last your hand wandered down where it was expected most... everything was in heat, as your fingers went into my casual wear and closed around my erected cook and you played with it, teasing me in my aching lust. The trousers were still on, and I started to struggle to get them off, but you didn't let me, holding me against your body, preventing my move. 'I have waited for so long,' you whispered with your silken dark voice in my ear, 'now I will take you as slowly as possible.' 'That's torture,' I moaned, and you smiled faintly and replied: 'Only a fair revenge for all your teasing and flirtation...' There was nothing to reply for me, so I gave up and in. You took your time, as you had promised, and when I finally was naked, I begged you to release me, my body writhing and shivering and sweating, and your hand felt almost cool against my burning flesh. You slowly turned me around and told me to go on all fours. I complied, and when I felt your hands on my opening I almost jumped, but you held me steady. Your fingers entered me one by one, slick by your spittle, and you touched my private parts, making me groan in pain and pleasure as you pushed deeper inside. After a while I relaxed, and when you felt my tension releasing, your fingers went out and something else entered... My god, you really claimed me, and I felt like a ravished virgin under the power of the mighty warrior, taking his prize for the slaughtered dragon... First you were cautious, but then you thrust in and pulled out forcefully. I moaned uncontrollably into the cushion, rushing in and out of consciousness with every impact of your body, or so it felt... Then you leaned over my back and your hand reached around and began to stroke my cock that squirmed under your touch. "Please..." I cried and pleaded, and you fulfilled my wish, making us both come in the same moment. Waves over waves of pleasure were rushing over me and drowning me till I blackened out and broke down on the bed..."

Kirk stopped, his heart beating fast from the pictures he had drawn with his words. Suddenly he knew something was wrong. "Spock," he urged, and held his ear to the mouth of his friend, but there was no sound, no little breath that escaped those lips. He frantically searched for the pulse, but could detect none, neither on the wrist nor at the throat.

"No..." Kirk raged, and shook Spock's lifeless body. First aid, he had to give first aid. He carefully freed his arm from the Vulcan's head and knelt over him, his knee protesting in pain. Did reanimation work on Vulcans? Their heart was protected from more ribs, and it was on the right side of the body... Kirk's mind raced as he went to the other side of Spock's body, touching down the chest to find the right point for his action. He cursed himself for not having done any refreshing course in the last years. "Ten times press, inhale, exhale.." he recited a deep-buried memory, and started.

Once, twice... after the eighth attempt he gave up in pain and exhaustion, and fell next to the Vulcan. "Don't leave me, Spock," Kirk whispered, pressing his head on Spock's chest, and finally his tears slowly crawled over his dusty face before they fell on the lifeless body of his friend. 

*

"Jim!" A voice resounded through the darkness, jolting Kirk from his mourning.

"Bones!" Kirk shouted with his last energy, and in despair he added, "hurry, hurry..."

The flickering light of the search lamps made its way down to him, and when they entered, Kirk was momentarily blinded by its intensity, raising one hand for protection. 

McCoy was next to Spock's body an instant later. "Shit..." was all he muttered before he started to work, administering scanners and various hypos in a breath-taking velocity. Kirk sat numbly opposite to him and held the Vulcan's hand that seemed to grow colder every second. 

He didn't quite realize that two crewmen had made their way around the cave and placed some transporter amplifier equipment in the corners, so when McCoy finally gave them a nod, they were directly transported to Sickbay. 

Christine was taking care of Kirk, while McCoy and M'Benga directly disappeared into the operation area with Spock.

"Will he survive?" Kirk asked Christine, and her heart ached by the pained look in his eyes.

"They will try anything, Captain." She couldn't say more - any promise would be a lie, and Kirk knew that.

"Come with me," she said, and he hobbled slowly with her support to one of the beds, then fell into sleep before Christine even had examined his injuries.

When Kirk opened his eyes again, he was momentarily disoriented.

"Hello Captain, how do you feel?" A calm Christine was standing next to his bed and looking at him inquiringly.

"Better," he admitted, fearing to ask the question that had sprung into his mind in the very moment of awakening, but obviously his eyes told enough.

"They are still at work," Christine said.

"How long...?"

"4 hours." 

Kirk closed his eyes. That was a damn long time for nowadays surgery, and a bad sign... or a good one, because it meant the doctors didn't intend to give up on Spock...

"I will inform you instantly on any news," Christine said reassuringly, and Kirk drifted back into sleep again. It was the only time she would ever recall later that his first question didn't concern the Enterprise.

When he awoke next, he was alone, with only the small chirping sound of the surveillance equipment filling the room. His fear of losing Spock made his stomach cringe, so he slowly got up and went to the surgery area. There he walked right into the arms of a very weary McCoy who got alerted when he saw the tumbling Captain.

"What are you doing here? Come on, I'm taking you to bed!"

Kirk peered over McCoy's shoulder into the surgery room. "Bones... what about Spock?"

McCoy put his arms on Kirk's shoulders. "He'll survive, if the healing process follows standard terms. M'Benga just does the final work." Kirk sagged in relief, allowing McCoy to bring him back.

"But that was a hell of a job," McCoy admitted as he accompanied Kirk to his bed.

"Talk about jumping out of the grave before they nailed the lid shut..." 

Kirk sat on the edge of the bed, feeling his own weariness crushing on him.

"Go to sleep, Jim, or I'll sedate you," McCoy ordered, too tired to let his usual grin travel over his face.

"You too, Bones," Kirk replied, but dutifully lay down and closed his eyes. Sleep was welcomed then...

Two days later Kirk was allowed to leave Sickbay and start with half-shifts again, but Spock was still in a coma. Kirk had sat at his side since he was allowed to do so, but no words, no touch had reached the Vulcan. McCoy had told him that all the readings were in the expected range, but his fear was too strong to suppress that easily. The pale green face of the Vulcan haunted his dreams, in which love and death were interwoven in a disturbing entanglement, giving him nightmares of a new quality.

Now Kirk was on his way to his first bridge duty, and the empty place at his side was a steady reminder of his friend in Sickbay. The small hiss of the turbolift door made his bridge staff turn their heads, and their open happiness at his sight cheered him up instantly. This was his crew, his ship, and they would go on, no matter what happened. This thought held him upright for the next four hours. Scott finally briefed him thoroughly on the Klingons, who had appeared as fast and unexpected as they had disappeared again, obviously adequately surprised by the Enterprise as the Enterprise had been by them. Unfortunately, in their short meeting on the planet's surface, the Klingon habit of "shoot first, ask questions later" had brought Kirk and Spock into that dangerous situation. Scott was relieved to have them both back, expecting nothing less than miracles from McCoy - and he was probably right with that.

At the end of his shift Kirk went to his room and fell on his bed, more exhausted than he would have admitted to anyone. He ignored the chirping door buzzer ten minutes later, but the door opened anyway, revealing McCoy with a medical tricorder and a bottle in his hand. He placed the latter on the table before approaching the Captain.

"Just wanted to have a look at you," he said. "How're you doing?"

The bed squealed under his weight when he sat next to Kirk.

"I don't understand how beds can still make those funny sounds... thought designers'd have made those annoyances obsolete for centuries..." His muttering brightened Kirk's mood, and a small smile showed up.

"Everything's fine," McCoy finally stated satisfied. "So my only medical advice for this evening - have a nice meal with inspiring company."

"You're the company, I suppose?" Kirk asked.

"I am." McCoy nodded and stood up to open the bottle, while Kirk slowly went for the synthesizer and ordered one of their usual combinations.

"Don't you wanna know about Spock?" McCoy asked casually, placing himself in one of the chairs.

"I fear to ask," Kirk admitted, but then turned around to face the doctor.

"Is he better?"

"Not much yet," McCoy had to admit. "But the data I have implies he should get out of his comatose state tomorrow. Thought you might like to know that."

"I hope you're right, Bones," Kirk sighed, and turned back to fetch their plates.

They ate their meals almost in silence, with their high concentration on their food in the way they both somehow had adopted from Spock, and finally only dessert in form of whisky was left. McCoy filled two glasses and gave one to Kirk. "A toast - to absent friends." They drank in silence, Kirk deep in his thoughts.

"You're not your usual party animal today," McCoy said with a thoughtful glance over the edge of his drink.

"No," Kirk admitted, "I am quite tired right now."

"Then go to bed. That's an order. We'll see each other in the morning. Good night, Jim." McCoy stood up and left after giving Jim a friendly slap on the shoulder, but when he stood in the corridor outside of the Captain's cabin, he stopped and turned back to the closed door with a frown. Kirk seemed unusually concerned about Spock's situation. Of course, he was next to him when he had almost died, but now that the Vulcan was in Sickbay, Kirk still was more emotionally involved than normal. What had happened between the two of them down there...?

Kirk was dreaming again in his unsteady sleep, and when he awoke with a scream on his lips, he got up, took a shower and walked to Sickbay. The night nurse came to greet him at the door, but didn't prevent him from entering. McCoy had already advised her that the Captain was to be expected and allowed in any time.

Spock was lying in his bed like he had been the last three days, motionless, the only real life sign being the pulse signal on the screen. Kirk pulled a chair next to him and sat down, fetching the Vulcan's unusually cold hand.

"Spock," he whispered. "Damn, Spock, wake up. You haunt my dreams, do you know that? I close my eyes and in the darkness I feel you next to me, and I embrace you, and make love to you and then I kiss you and suddenly you turn cold and die in my arms... And every time a little piece of me dies with you."

He caressed Spock's hand, massaging the long fingers one by one.

"You can't die now, that would be cowardly. I didn't have my revenge on you yet... the next time it's my turn to ravish you, beloved one, to take you with all my power and the energy you once assigned to me. I will kiss you and press my body on yours, and my hands will travel over you, inflaming you like you inflamed me, tease you like you teased me..."

His voice cracked when he started to sob, small drops falling down on their joined hands.

"Spock, I love you, with all my heart, and to lose you now where we finally had crossed the line that held us apart for so long would be the worst thing you could do to me."

Kirk looked up with wetted eyes and searched Spock's face for a movement, but there was none.

Suddenly a smile crawled over his face, and he rose and leaned over Spock. His gaze crawled intensely over the pale forehead, the closed eyes under the arched, chiseled brows, before finally fixating on the bloodless lips.

"Let's try the classic way," he whispered, and kissed the unconscious Vulcan first softly, then stronger. All his wishes he laid into this exquisite touch, and as if he could ignite the flame of life, he went on for a long time. When he finally lifted his head, he stared into the eyes of a blushing McCoy.

"Sorry, Jim..."

Kirk flushed to even an deeper red than the doctor.

"Well..."

They stood in an embarrassing silence for some seconds when suddenly the medical monitors changed their displays, catching their eyes. 

"He's waking up," McCoy said, and jumped to the bed, grabbing for Spock's other arm to feel his pulse. The equipment was fine, but he liked to control those things for himself, just to be sure.

"Spock," Kirk said, and stroked Spock's hair softly.

It took another long moment before Spock opened his eyes.

"Jim..."

Kirk pressed the Vulcan's hand hard. "Everything's fine, Spock. You're in Sickbay. We survived." Not the most logical of all statements, but an appreciated one, as Spock showed a very small smile.

"Seems I've learned something new," McCoy muttered, carefully avoiding a gaze at his friends. He wondered if he should report this special reanimation technique, but it probably only worked with folks as determined as James T. Kirk, anyway... 

"You have 2 minutes, Jim."

Kirk nodded without averting his gaze from Spock's eyes, and McCoy left with a sigh.

"Spock, you almost died in my arms..."

"I remember..." Spock closed his eyes again. "But I survived... no need to be so anxious..."

"Forgive me that I am not as good as a Vulcan in shutting pain down, my love..." Kirk said with a smile, but Spock had already passed out again, fortunately into sleep this time. Exactly two minutes later Kirk left his sleeping friend, with a final kiss on the pale lips and a promise for fast return whispered in his ear.

McCoy was sitting in his office and watched after Kirk who left Sickbay fast-paced, which was quite a change of manner from that during their meal four hours ago, when he had been silent and introverted. Kirk and Spock... they couldn't have been into that long, otherwise he'd know. Near-death situations could be quite a catalyst, McCoy reflected while he sipped at a glass of whisky, and finally he shrugged and concentrated on his reports. His friends would tell him, sooner or later...

Eight hours later Kirk was still bursting with energy, till the moment he was on his way to Sickbay. There his guilty conscience struck him and made him stop in the middle of his walk, forcing crewmembers to jump to the side to avoid bumping into their Captain. There was this one little thing he had repressed for the last days, but now he realized that if Spock remembered even his almost death, he would surely remember all their talk. Kirk flushed and weakly leaned on the wall of the corridor to appease his racing thoughts by reflecting the possibly consequences. There was only one solution - he had to talk to Spock, explain his behavior, and they would sort it out, hopefully... After fearing Spock's death so much, this new fear of another possible loss made Kirk sweat.

"Go ahead, you fool", he chastised himself. "You behave like a teenager at his first date." A small devil in his head insisted that it was indeed a first date, but he refused that thought and determined made his way to Sickbay, only to find Spock in a deep sleep. After having thought about his words intensely for the last minutes, he looked now sheepishly down at the Vulcan, reluctant to even touch his hand.

"Spock," he said in a low voice, but his friend didn't react. Kirk sighed and sat himself next to the Vulcan where McCoy joined him only minutes later.

"He's entered the healing trance," McCoy explained when he saw the disappointed look on the Captain's face.

"How long will it take?" Kirk asked, knowing beforehand that he wouldn't like the answer.

"Two days, at least. M'Benga will wake him up when the readings indicate the end of the process."

Kirk stood up. "Please tell me when he awakens, won't you?"

"Of course, Jim," McCoy answered, and looked after his friend confused. What the hell had happened in the last hours to change Jim's mood so much again? He even hadn't touched the Vulcan. McCoy couldn't make head nor tail of it.

He looked at Spock, whose face was still too pale, but the readings were stable now. McCoy wished humans would know this trick, too - an in-built repair feature was something earth medicine had looked for since centuries, and auto-suggestion just didn't work far enough...

"I wonder what happened down there. Jim's report included only matter-of-fact stuff, nothing to read between the lines, but something has changed between Jim and you..." McCoy wondered loudly, but held his tongue when Christine entered. He was not sure whether she had really gotten over her crush on Spock, so there was no reason to raise the topic of Jim and Spock... He shook his head to stop this line of thoughts, and started to talk cheerily with Christine about her last research on anaerobic bacteria from the planet Rathha.

Kirk didn't come to Sickbay the next days, but instead he pondered over what he could say to Spock if he would ask... would remember... would deny his feelings again...

As their actual mission was uneventful enough to give him a hell of an amount of free time to spend on his brooding, he felt already emotionally wrung out when the call from Sickbay came in, too much to go there instantly. Yet two hours later he couldn't stand the waiting anymore, so McCoy found himself facing a nervous Captain.

"How's Spock?" Kirk asked, pacing through the office.

"Why don't you ask him personally?" McCoy asked cautiously. Kirk turned his head to him and frowned.

"Please answer my question," Kirk stated in his Command mode.

"Commander Spock has almost recovered and will be able to return to his duties in two days, Sir." McCoy answered in his best Starfleet teaching.

"Does he still have partial amnesia?" Kirk inquired.

McCoy was surprised. "He had amnesia? You never told me, and he hasn't mentioned it now. You should have reported that!"

"I forgot, Bones. I am sorry." Kirk apologized with his boyish smile and McCoy fell for it once more, though he did shake his head as a disapproving gesture.

"Something else you forgot?" McCoy mumbled, but then added in his usual rough friendliness: "Get your ass out of here and visit Spock."

Kirk nodded with a sigh. "I'll do that. Thanks Bones."

Spock was awake when Kirk entered the separated area.

"Hello Spock," he greeted with a casual side-look on the medical readings.

"Captain," Spock replied in his deep voice, which sounded almost like usual.

"Good to have you back again," Kirk said, and forced a small smile on his face. 

"It seems to me you greeted me more cheerily the last time," Spock replied dryly. "I have some faint memories of a very long kiss."

"You have...? Well, that's probably true." Kirk swallowed and looked down at the floor for a second before finally raising his gaze again to meet Spock's eyes.

"Spock, I have to apologize..."

"Don't, Jim," Spock said calmly. "There is no need for that."

"But I lied to you."

Spock stretched his hand in Kirk's direction, inviting his touch, but Kirk was too full of regret to be simply eased by this gesture.

"The whole story about our shoreleave was just an invention."

"Not the whole," Spock replied, and his hand urged once more to meet Kirk's, who gave in now. Spock's hand was warmer than his, a good sign. "I quite well remember the shoreleave, and our shared room. Although I seem to have missed the most interesting part of our holiday. You have a vivid imagination... and it was a very satisfying story to die with, I can assure you."

Kirk blushed and inclined his head in brief relief. Yet there was something else he had to confess, so he cleared his throat and went ahead: "I have to apologize even more, Spock. It was all pre-planned, the complete shoreleave with the small double room and my nightly adventures..."

Spock's eyebrow cocked upwards in surprise.

Kirk sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at their entangled hands.

"Three months ago I finally realized that I had fallen in love with you... somewhere between all our joined duties, and landing parties and chess games and shared meals... And from that moment on I tried to get your attention whenever I could. I flirted and I offered myself, and probably every other being aboard would have ended in my bed only a week later, but you never noticed - or so it seemed. After giving you broad hints for months, I decided to organize this special shoreleave, where I deliberately tried to provoke you, to push you over the edge..."

Kirk looked up and met Spock's gaze. 

"I didn't succeed, as you well know. The things I told you in the cave were just my fantasies, what should have happened there. But they didn't, and after this last shoreleave I gave up, convinced that you would never return my feelings."

"Why didn't you simply ask me?" Spock inquired, stroking the Captain's hand sensually.

"I found it necessarily that you would be the active part." Kirk hesitated. "If I would have asked you, a part of me would forever have wondered if I'd talked you into it, made you turn your back on your Vulcan disciplines. I just had to know you would come to me by your own free will and interest."

Kirk stopped unsettled - now that he had listened to his own reasoning, he found it unconvincing, but Spock simply nodded. "I understand. Unfortunately, a similar consideration prevented me from talking to you - since you never seemed to have any problems expressing your interest when it came to sexual encounters..." Kirk blushed again and withdraw from Spock's gaze, in which depths he could detect an amused sparkle, "...I expected an open word from you. Even more so as you never to my knowledge had indicated any interest in men."

Spock's intense look fixated on Kirk's blond hair, making Kirk instinctively raise his head. 

"I have to admit, though, that this special shoreleave stretched my control almost to the breaking point, which made your fantasy sound quite real to me - even down to some of the details..." The slightly green flush on Spock's cheeks made Kirk laugh openly in relief.

"You have a smutty fancy, Mr. Spock. I didn't realize that before." Kirk mocked him with a heart-breaking look from his brown eyes, lifting Spock's hand to his lips for a kiss. 

"We are quite similar in some regards, I suppose," Spock replied, and the medical readings indicated the increase in heart rate that Spock wasn't able to control right then.

"That would be quite a shame." McCoy's voice took them both by surprise and Kirk jumped off the bed, retracting his hands from Spock's. "One of those long-eared, logical devils is surely enough on this ship." McCoy grinned. "And I see Sleeping Beauty got her prince." A very sharp glance from Kirk made McCoy hastily change to less dangerous themes, like concentrating on the medical output. After a short checkup on the readings McCoy looked at the Vulcan.

"Spock, I'm glad to tell you you'll be released in 12 hours."

"I am looking forward to it," Spock answered stoically.

"As am I," McCoy replied cheerily, and decided to make a strategic withdrawal before Jim could get in a real nasty mood....

"Sleeping beauty?" Spock inquired with a raised brow when McCoy's steps had faded into his office.

"An old Terran fairy-tale... I'll tell you about it...tomorrow..."

Whatever answer Spock had intended to give, Kirk's kiss silenced it, and it was forgotten when their lips parted again much, much later... 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this challenge: "Kirk gets amnesia and forgets everything. Spock sees his chance and tells Kirk that they are lovers. How do you explain such a breach of honesty in an honorable Vulcan such as Spock?" - I just reversed their roles :)


End file.
